Brooklyn's TK
by The What-If Writer
Summary: One foggy night in New York, Jazz finds himself acquainted with a gang of kittens who once lived under the Brooklyn Bridge. But these kittens have more to them than the patches on their clothing, and when they came over to TC's part of the town they brought a whole lot of trouble with them. Trouble that ties in with two yellow kittens, one of which never says a word...
1. Chapter 1

_I SAID TO MYSELF: DON'T START ANOTHER FIC WHEN YOU HAVE SO MANY OTHERS TO COMPLEEEEEETE. DANG IT._

_NOW LOOK AT WHAT I'VE DONE._

_That aside, please may this fic get more reviews than my more recent ones (like my Garfield one. Jeez that thing's review box is gathering dust already.) _

_Theme song for this fic is 'Once Upon a Time in New York City.'_

_I'm listening to it as I type the author's note. Suits my OC._

_Jazz appears in the first chapter, but not TC and his gang unfortunetly. They'll appear soon, don't worry!_

_PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE!_

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Chapter 1: Double O' Yellow.

The darkened streets of New York never ceased in their sound. Even on the quietest of nights the rumbling of the subway could synchronize itself with one breathing, the small echo of far-away traffic present even in the most isolated of alleyways. The clouded sky was dark and grim, and the vague smell of petrol drifted lethargically through the air much like the Drunk that lived under the Brooklyn Bridge that the certain feline kept hearing about.

The Pool room was dimly lit and noisy this fair New York Night, the were blinds down and the stakes were high. The feline in question tapped the end of his cue, flicking at a stubborn splinter as he awaited his turn. He was a real natural at the game if he did say so himself (and he would do so, mind you.) So it really made no difference at all if the stick was a little shabby.

Jazz adjusted the neck of his coat and watched with a lazy and calm gaze as his opponent attempted to strike the ball. The audience (being his trusty friend Bo and some others) gave a sympathetic titter. The laid-back cat chuckled a little, leaning on the table quiet comfortably as his opponent blinked obviously.

"Not the best shot there, my friend. Let ole' Jazz show ya how its done." With that the light-pelted cat straightened up and positioned his cue with expert care. He eyed the little white ball settled nicely in the center of the table.

"Alright, baby, here we go!" He announced, but just as the cue slipped between his hands for the hit a loud noise interrupted the cat's concentration along with every occupant's in the room, and the cue skidded past the ball and hit the end of the table. Jazz fell forward a few inches and hit his chest off the side, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs as the other cats present in the room turned their attention to the door.

Jazz didn't know whether to be happy for the noise or not. As he straightened up and frowned a little he wondered if it was because he missed a pretty good shot or it had distracted everyone from seeing said missed shot. He glanced over at Bo who (with some others) had rushed over to the propped-open door to see what was going on. Jazz blinked a little upon hearing a few yells fly into the air outside, and he moved forward with curiosity lining up his usually half- lidded eyes.

The caterwauling outside grew louder as Jazz joined his little red-furred friend by the door. He looked down at his pal as he came.

"Say there, Bo, what's-"

His well-toned voice stopped short when he saw what was happening. "Holy Cue on the Wall..."

Outside stood one of the largest and most dangerous (by brute strength standards) cats in the city, and though Jazz wasn't what you would call a local, he knew that this formidable feline went by the name of 'Jock-Jock' for reasons unknown. The tallish cat knew better than to ask.

What was more surprising than the giant cat's name was the small figures that surrounded him, and on closer Inspection Jazz saw that they looked a little like...

"'Are those Kittens?" He asked aloud, his eyes widening even more. Bo nodded quickly below.

"Looks like it, A.T." He replied in his groveling voice with equal surprise. "And it looks like they made ole' Jock there mad!"

Indeed they had. Some of the raggedly-dressed kittens had attached themselves to the larger cat's legs while the others jumped around him and hissed. Jazz noticed that dangling from Jock-Jock's fist like a spider from a shredded web was the smallest kitten of them all. He rose a brow as he slowly figured out what was going on.

They were trying to get their little pal out of trouble. Judging by the ragged appearance of the little gang, they must have tried a thieving trick that had gone sour like a milk on a hot day.

"Bo my man, I might need ta make an appearance in this little frenzy. Tell the boys tat he table I'll be back in a jiff." Jazz, ignoring his friend's dropping jaw, sauntered quiet calmly over to the fray and stood a few steps back. The kittens hovering a little away from Jock-Jock scowled up at him in distrust, hissing slightly as they hopped out of the way. Jazz shrugged.

"Charmin' little tykes, ain't ya?"

Ignoring the deepened scowls, he stood a little near Jock-Jock now, and coughed loudly to get the giant's attention. The bright orange cat turned around and growled at him, the smallest kitten flopping in his grasp. The large cat had caught a hold of the kitten's clothing (a blight blue jumper that had seen better days) and the dark blue hat the youngster was wearing hid his face. Yet, he could tell that the kitten was frightened though he made no sound.

"Don't mean ta intrude my friend," Jazz told him as he placed his hands in his pockets, "But me an' the boys was wondering what the ruckus was."

"Ruckus?" The large cat snarled, leering over the lanky feline before him with fury, "The 'ruckus' here is these little brats try'n ta steal my stuff!"

The smaller cat kept his cool, allowing his usual lazy smile to form in its comfortably position as she leaned back. It wouldn't do to lose his cool right now unless he wanted to add a few 0's to his dental bills.

Jazz glanced at the kitten gang, who had retreated a few steps. Two of them (one grey and one of a blueish colour) were still holding onto his leg. The slender cat shrugged.

"Well, did they get anything?" He asked off-handedly. Jock-Jock growled in response.

"Nope. I got'em before he could blink."

"Then they'res nothin' more ta cause trouble about. Kids'll nick anything that ain't tied down and ya best get used to it. Just send 'um on their way and they won't do it again." Jazz looked over at the kittens and smiled in response to their now bemused stares. "Right kids?"

"Yes, Sir!" they chorused. Jazz nodded towards them as he looked back up at Jock-Jock.

"Ya heard him, chum. They won't trouble you again."

There was a pause. Jazz moved his gaze at last to glance at the kitten dangling dejectedly from the giant's fist, and beneath the over-sized cap he saw a fearful and confused green eye watching him. Then, Jock-Jock rolled his eyes and dropped the small form, turning to storm back down the street.

"See it don't, skinny. I hate kids..."

The kittens who had been holding onto his leg jumped away and darted back to their group, taking their time to waggle their tongues. Jazz laughed a little at that.

"Alright you little tykes, why don't ya run along?"

Without so much as a thank-you, they departed. Jazz could've sworn that they'd just turned into dust bunnies the moment the words were out of his mouth, save for the grey and blue one that had been biting Jock-Jock's leg. The held back a little.

"Toby!" The grey one called back, "Come on!"

Toby? what...

Jazz turned his head and found that the smallest kitten, ironically the cause of the whole event, was sitting on the floor and trying to untangle himself from his own scarf. Jazz smiled a little and moved towards him.

"Hey there, tyke. You alright?"

The kitten jumped and skidded back from him a little, an action that made him frown. As the little guy stumbled to his feet, Jazz noticed that the small kitten's fur differed from the colours of the others. He sported bright yellow fur, of which reminded Jazz of a certain blowhard with a preference of the colour purple. He frowned a little.

The small kitten managed to push his large blue hat up from his eyes, and once again Jazz was met with the wide, green pair of eyes from before. The boy shivered at the form that had appeared.

Jazz noted this and held up his paws. "Whoa there, lil' buster, I won't hurt ya."

The kitten's ears flattened back and he looked to the floor, twiddling his thumbs. He said nothing. Jazz cocked his head to the side.

"Uh...ya alright there, buster?"

"..."

"Your parents 'round?"

"..."

"Don't say much, hm?" Jazz shoved his paws into his pockets and sighed. "Well, I'll be going now. Keep outa trouble, lil guy." he flashed a friendly smile toward the uneasy youngster. "Meaning try not ta get caught, huh?"

The yellow kitten blinked at him before smiling brightly. Then, he trotted forward and tugged on Jazz's coat just as the older cat began moving away. Jazz halted and looked down at him in surprise, but happy that the little guy seemed grateful unlike his little pals.

"Hey there, Buster."

"..." The kitten smiled and reached into his tattered pocket, bringing out a shiny penny and waving it up at Jazz. the older cat took it with a warm smile in return. Sure he knew it was near worthless, but it was heartwarming. Guess this little tyke was different that his ragged friends.

"Aw, thanks there, buster." He pat the kitten on his over sized hat. Toby, as his name seemed to have been, smiled in response and bobbed his head up and down.

_"Toby!"_

Said kitten jumped upon hearing a new voice enter the air, and both cats turned to see another small figure leaning around the corner. Since it was pretty dark and the corner.

Either way, the other kittens had darted around the corner upon his arrival, and lots of them were gathered behind him. Leader maybe?

Though was quiet far, Jazz couldn't make out what the other kitten looked like, only that he, too, was yellow in colour and was dressed in black. Jazz vaguely wondered if they were related, and he had a feeling that the other kitten was glaring for some reason.

Toby stared intently at the other kitten and, casting Jazz one last smile, darted off down the street and out of sight.

As Jazz gave a small wave, he glanced down at the penny in hand. His trusty friend Bo trotted up to his side, head tilted to the side.

"Funny lil' guy there, Huh, Jazz?"

"Doesn't say much." Jazz agreed before pocketing the penny. "But a good kid. Betta than that TC fella. Now, we gotta pool game ta finish..."

As Jazz and Bo left to the street, the yellow kitten known as Toby glanced back around the corner, his paw resting against the damp brickwork. His ears were raised as if listening intently, and upon hearing the last words concerning himself, he tilted his head curiously but beamed all the same. Then, he disappeared around the corner again.

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Please tell me I kept Jazz in character.

PLEASE REVIEW.


	2. Chapter 2

_OMG I GOT ONE REVIEW. THAT'S BETTER THAN TWO OF MY OTHER FICS COMBINED._

_Here's the next chapter. Just a little reminder that T.C and the gang are still here._

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Chapter 2: Telephones.

If you lived in the streets of Brooklyn; that is if you were an alley cat that lived in the streets of Brooklyn, you would have had some inkling of the little gangs that made their home under the bridge itself. Local individuals would tell visitors that if you didn't nail down whatever you had and kept your eye on it 24/7, it would probably be whisked away into oblivion by the aforementioned little gangs.

The kittens didn't appear out of nowhere. They had, like many, either been born on the street or ran away from home. Whatever reason, the people of Brooklyn knew they were there and that they and their little ringleader were trouble with a capital 'T'

So it was very odd, very odd indeed, when one day that had all simply vanished along with a lot of Brooklyn's more...dangerous problems. Not many complained...but they did feel sorry for any unfortunate neighborhood the little rascals had made their home in now...

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The day was bright and the sky was clear; the traffic was rumbling and the alleyways were clear and seemingly vacant in the early morning midst. From one particular alleyway, embedded in the ground, was a very tall telephone pole that was a little more shiny than the rest of the place. A 'little' being an understatement as a certain Officer of the Law would comment on the habitat from time to time.

_Ring-Ring._

Through the quiet (or this large city's standards of quiet) alleyway came the insistent and high-pitched ringing native to the telephone line. At first the ringing was ignored.

Then, after a few more moments of the phone's pestering calls, a rather beaten looking trashcan beside it shifted in its position. Then, a loud groan rang out over the noise. Then, a grumbling voice muttered to itself in response to this intolerance.

"Telephone calls, all tha' time. I gotta talk ta' Dibble 'bout this..."

The phone's ringing stopped abruptly.

"Hello...? Er, no, Officer Dibble isn't hear right now. What's that? An emergency? well ya better tell him, but it looks like he's taken a unnautherised vacation if ya ask me..."

_THWACK._

"Gotcha that time, T.C!"

Officer Dibble was a stern policeman, or so he would always like to beleive, so it wasn't a surprise that he'd be irked by the ally cat's little stunt.

Dibble had just been doing his morning rounds when he heard the telephone, one that had been inconveniently positioned in the cat's ally, ringing over the fence walls. Needless to say, Dibble knew what he'd be finding upon arrival. It was just like anyway, only that this call had been left neglected for too long and Dibble was probably going to get some scolding for it. The con man who had just been flattened back into the trashcan (Dibble had effectively shoved the lid back on top of him in an almost comical fashion) and grabbed the phone before it could fall.

_Huh...should use that technique more often. _"Hey there, Sarge."

The tone on the other end of the line sharpened. Dibble's face fell. "Oh no, Sarge. Never again. Oh, aright then, Sarge. What's the trouble?"

A pair of narrowed eyes watched him sourly from the crack between the trashcan and its traitorous lid. Then, Top Cat pushed said lid from over his head and straightened up, resting on arm on the end of the trashcan and the other left dangling lazily by his side. He watched Dibble with mild annoyance mixed in with interest.

_You'd think they coulda installed anotha phone somewhere..._

"What's that Sarge? I don't think I heard ya right..." Dibble's expression was a little disbelieving. T.C smiled a little. What, did the Sarge tell him that he'd won something? Maybe Dibble would be nice enough to share...he shook that thought away when Dibble's eyes widened even more.

"Kittens, Sarge? Are ya_ sure?"_

Top Cat blinked before raising a curious brow. Kittens? There weren't many kittens around here...not ones that would cause trouble for the police, that is. He tapped his fingers irritably on the side of the can, waiting for Dibble to end his phone call.

"Okay, Sarge. I'll deal with it." And with that the Officer in question hung up, giving a single, huffed breath. "Well that's a lil' wierd..."

"What is?" T.C asked with sheer boredom, though in truth he was a little interested. What little tykes could get the police annoyed?

"Apparen'ly some little kittens had been stealin' from folk down in the park. Stuff goin' missing right out of people's pockets!"

T.C cocked his head to the side, looking off in indifference, though a small smile played at his lips at the humor of Dibble's sentence. "Crafty little guys, eh? Can't be too tough a job for the likes of Officer Dibble, though."

Dibble caught the sly and slightly mocking tone lining his words and scowled. "Very funny, T.C." he told him as he turned around. As much as he'd like to have a good refreshing argument with this little wise-guy, he had some devilish little brats to take care of.

"You keep outa trouble, Top Cat! I mean it, stay away from that phone!"

"Don' worry there, Dib, I'll make sure your phone's nice an' _secure."_

A few moments passed in silence as the Policeman in question vanished around the corner. Top Cat stretched his arms and shifted his head to the side. "Well, betta get the gang tagetha. Who knows what those jokers have gotten themselves' into now..."

With that the yellow pelted cat grasped two trash can lids and readied them for the strike. Just as he did, from the trashcan next to him, came a small pair of eyes and an even cuter nose.

"Hiya there, T.C!"

Top Cat halted his arms just as he was about to bash the lids together, blinking in surprise down at Benny the Ball, who in turn smiled happily up at him. He seemed innocently unaware of the other cat's surprise.

"Benny, have ya been there tha whole time?"

"Yup. Where's Officer Dibble goin'?"

"Oh, he's just dealing with some kittens, Benny." The ball smiled brightly.

"Aaaw! Can we go see the kittens, T.C?"

His hopeful little voice made the yellow feline shake his head a little. "No, Benny. I'm not sure that's a great idea. Besides your jus' as cute as any kitten so there's no problem there."

Benny's face fell at that. Top Cat rolled his eyes and gave his head another little shake. Trust Benny to find such things so adorable, even if they did cause theft troubles for the police.

"Aw..."

Top Cat turned his attention back to banging the trashcan lids together. After a moment's pause to get the feeling into his paws, Top Cat began bashing them together, sending a rhythm of crashes echoing through the ally's.

Little did he knew that just around the corner, a few small pairs of eyes watched him. One was surrounded by grey fur, one by blue, and one by reddish pink. Then, the trio of eye pairs slid back around the corner as the tiny figures, smaller than the average officer's knee, trotted down the street and out of sight, giggling to themselves secretively.

_"Are we gonna tell TK and them othas, Kip?"_

_"Yous right dere, Bluedoo. Cha-Cha, ya comin'?"_

_"Sure am, man. Cha-cha, Cha-cha-cha!"_

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_Please review or the kittens will rob you off all your stuff..._


	3. Chapter 3

_MEEEEERY CHRISTMAS!_

_Have a chapter! AND PLEASE REVIEW!_

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Chapter 3: Officer Dibble and the Cha-Cha.

The park was fine and fair today, as was the morning that passed lazily over its midst. The sun was shining, but, almost like the events below, some clouds sneaked across its warming light. The grass was green and scattered across the fields and curling paths constructing the park were just your everyday people; children playing by the swings, couples walking through the sunny day...it was quiet the peaceful sight.

But Officer Dibble had been told otherwise, you see. If you looked upon such a place with an experience and law-inforced view, you would have seen one of the easiest targets for petty crimes. But doers of said petty crimes were not in sight at the moment.

Dibble went along the path, tipping his hand in good respect to passers-by as he did so. All the while he surveyed the grassy landscape like a hawk (some including a wise-guy ally cat would say 'pigeon' but never mind,) and began wondering if perhaps Sarge had been mistaken.

It was that little moment, as it always was, that what he'd been looking for showed up just when he was about to give up. In a more populated part of the Park, were adults had gathered and were talking in small, chattering clusters, he spotted a small group of colourful figures trotting around their legs, unnoticed and ignored. He frowned and strode forth, his stature rigid.

A grayish kitten with a noticeable darker patch over his eye (one to match the multiple cousins it had over his poor excuse for a jacket) had just pinched the edge of a neatly dressed man when he hollered a curt, quick sentence:

"Hold it right there, ya lil' rascal!"

The grey kitten stiffened and his brown eyes shot wide, and upon spotted Dibble marching towards him with a narrowed glare, he promptly turned and dashed away, leaving a very bemused almost-victim blinking in surprise. Officer Dibble had no time to apologize to the pedestrian however, and gave chase. He sped after the sprinting little ball of fluff, waving his fist after him in a frustrated manner.

"Come back here!"

The chase stretched across the park and towards the edge of the grass area, and for one moment Dibble was afraid the kitten would escape into the concrete jungle of New York, where it would be harder to find him than a needle in a haystack.

Then, luck gave a sudden strike for this usually unlucky officer when the kitten collided with another figure, that, as the policeman finally caught up, was yet another kitten.

Both small felines were sprawled on the ground in a daze, the grey rubbing his head with a shaky paw and the other staring rather dizzily up at the sky. The taller kitten sported pinkish-red fur, his ears obscured by a black hat to match his dark blue jumper (with sleeves that dangled past his thin paws) and he appeared to be slightly younger than the grey kitten despite his taller stature.

Before they knew it, both kittens where dangling from each of the policeman's hands like a drop of rain from a pipe, the back of their jumpers clenched tightly in his grasp. They blinked in a dumbfounded way at each other before glaring sourly at the man (well, at least the grey one did. The taller kitten still looked very dizzy.)

"Alright!" Dibble exclaimed, his authoritative scowl still in place but feeling immensely pleased with himself, "You two lil' rascals are in big trouble, ain't ya?"

They glanced at each other, then back at Dible with rather blank looks. Then, the grey one shrugged his shoulders and gave a snarky grin.

"D'aww, we ain't. We was just inspectin' it for..."

Knowing he referred to the wallet he was about to steal, Dibble rose a brow and frowned at the kitten. _This outa be good..._

"Lice!" The taller kitten offered helpfully, raising his paws in the air and waving his arms. The grey kitten sounded very happy with this new idea.

"Yea, dat's right, Lice! We was inpectin' for lice, like for, um..."

"Our business!"

"Yeah, thanks Cha-Cha, our business. We was makin' money like honest folk, see?"

Dibble's brow rose even more. "Riiiight. You were getting your little paws on money alright, but not the honest way!"

The kittens fell silent, blinking blankly up at him again. Then,

"Um, Kip, we're busted aren't we?"

"...S'oppose, Cha-Cha. Maybe we should go quietly, like."

There was a pause, and Dibble did not know what to expect. He did not have to wonder for very long, however, as when he was about to head back to the station, to perhaps locate a parent or a place for them to be sent, both kittens lashed out and dug their small but sharp claws into his arms.

It was a particularly painful experience. The sharp pains shooting through his limbs, Dibble yelped in a high-pitched tone and accidentally released the convicted cats, and both of the small thieves dashed away. Dibble, rubbing his slightly bleeding arms, allowed a hiss to escape before giving chase again.

Maybe he should have listen to Sarge when he said these little rascals meant business...

Cha-Cha and Kip raced away from the chubby-looking (or so they called him) policeman and as they looked back over their shoulders, they saw he was catching up. Kip's eyes widened.

"Looks like we'll have to find anotha way of gettin' rid of 'im, Cha!"

"Yup! Maybe we should hide behind that guy!"

Dibble honestly didn't know what had happened. In one moment he was catching up to the thieving tykes, the next they had disappeared once they passed through a few small gaggles of people. His eyes flickered around in bewilderment. Then, he sighed in exasperation.

"You gotta be kiddin' me. Now how am I gonna find them? Their worse that T.C's gang..."

Wait. He took that back.

"Almost, anyway."

Jazz wasn't too familiar with the Officer known as Dibble (or Dribble as some people called him when they were irked with the particular cop) and though he'd known him for a short while, he wasn't on what you would call 'a friendship' bases. That is, he wasn't about to call him over.

Jazz and Bo were standing idly at the edge of the park and, as they were discussing the last night's game of pool, two familiar kittens had darted over to them and promotly ducked behind them, heads bent and tails shaking. Jazz had been, momentarily, surprised, but he figured out what was going on as soon as he'd seen Dibble on the move. That was just his talent; figuring stuff out nd thinking quickly in response to these kind of situations. It was how he'd grown such a calm, laid-back demeanor after all.

His paws tucked warmly into his coat pocket, A.T turned his head to look over his shoulder at the kittens hiding behind himself and Bo.

"Alright, ya little rascals, he's gone."

He said it wuiet cheerfully, with a little bit of a sly tone mixed in, as he knew all too well what they'd been up to. Bo was blinking at them quietly, and said nothing as the kittens emerged and came to stand before him, rubbing the backs of their necks.

"Jee, ah, t'anks mista."

"Oooh, now ya say thank-ya." Jazz shurgged his shoulders and decided to let it drop for now. The taller kitten beamed happily at him.

"Yous that guy who helped Toby! _Cha-Cha, Cha-cha-cha!"_

This odd little song, sang quietly at the end of his sentence, was accompanied by a mimicked batch of punches and kicks despite Jazz not doing anything of the sort to the help their friend. But, the grey kitten didn't seem bothered, so Jazz let it slide with another shrug.

"Yeah...the little yellow one." Yes, he did recall the quiet little kitten who may of reminded him of a certain yellow ally-cat who liked riding outside of taxis for transport. The pinkish-red kitten bobbed his head happily.

"Yup!"

The grey cat boy didn't seem as comfortably with talking about their fellow gang members as much as his friend- but it seemed said pal was a little less meant no harm, though, and returned his thoughts to the odd little kitten in question.

"Doesn't have a lotta say, does he?"

"Dat's Toby. He don't talk none!"

"Cha-Cha..."

Cha-Cha, Jazz thought with a calm sort of smile, was the perfect name for this beaming little tyke. The one addressing him was not beaming, however, and looked a little bit uneasy. Jazz's smile left a little. Surly knowing the kid couldn't speak (or didn't, whichever way) was no harm?

Cha-Cha clearly didn't think so. "Someone else does the talkin for 'im. We got T-"

The grey kitten had smacked a paw over Cha-Cha's mouth before he could continue, and Jazz blinked in surprise at this action, hands still placed in his pockets.

"Uh, sorry dere, mista, but wes gotta go!" Jazz allowed a smile to return. Clearly this kid didn't trust him and he couldn't say that trusting a stranger was a good thing, even if they are decent.

"Good idea there, little chum. Betta get yourselves home before the authorities show up."

"Yeah. T'anks again, mista."

"Don't mention it, uh..."

"Name's Kip." Said kitten placed a proud paw on his chest. Not too distrusting to keep his name a secret? Must be proud of it..."

"And I'm Jazz, kid. A.T for short sometimes." He smiled at their confused expressions.

"Dat's for 'All That'"

"All That Jazz?"

"You got it, kid. Now run along before Dibble comes back!"

"Yes sir!"

And just like that, they were gone in a flurry of grey and reddish pink fur. Jazz shook his head as he gave a small chuckle. Bo had remained uncertain and quiet throughout the whole conversation. Jazz noticed this with a little frown.

"S'matter, there, Bo?"

"They seemed awful secretive, Boss. You don;t think they're dangerous, do ya?"

Jazz's brow raised. "What makes ya say that, Bo?"

Crafty little ruffians, yes, probably rob you blind, yes, but dangerous? What gave his small friend the notion?

"Some folk down at the Pool Bar been sayin' they came from Brooklyn. Know the tougher gangs there, if ya know whatta mean."

Jazz was silent for a moment.

"You alright, there, A.T?"

"Fine, Bo. But whatever they're hiding, we all got secrets." Jazz shrugged his shoulders and began turning around, "C'mon, Bo, let's get over to that Bar ya mentioned. Said to the boys I'd join them in a game."

"Sure ting, Jazz."

In mid-turn, Jazz caught something out of the corner of his eye. Blinking, he looked over his shoulder and saw something small and yellow peering around a tree at him.

It was Toby, the little quiet tyke from before. He was looking around the trunk in a shy, wary manner, and Jazz couldn't help but wonder how someone who resembled a guy like T.C could be so different. Glad for such a fact, Jazz smiled and gave a little wave.

Toby blinked in surprise, as if not used to such a gesture. Then, he gave a shy and bashful smile and waved back in a timid manner. Jazz chuckled a bit_. He'd a good kid..._

Then, oddly enough, another figure reached around the tree and plucked him from sight. It had been a single arm, small like Toby's (signalling the presence of another kitten) only he could have sworn he'd seen a blur of black as well as they'd zipped away from sight. Jazz couldn't help but think of the black-clad kitten from before.

"Hm..."

He didn't have much else to say about the other, distrusting and aloof kitten. As he walked on, A.T couldn't help but worry a little, for a reason he did not know. Had that been a kitten he'd seen whisking Toby away?

He looked over his shoulder again and, in a weird image, he saw two yellow figures, both about the same size and feline, darted across the park around out of sight._ Hm._

"Jazz, ya comin'?"

"Yeah, Bo. I'm comin'..."

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_Pleaaaase leave a review. The kittens will steal your Christmas Presents if ya don't..._

_Well, maybe they will anyway, but please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Happy Boxing day!_

_For those who may feel there are too many OC, don' worry- two kittens that appear in this, Tin and Jojo, are just side characters. Well, more like SIDE-side characters. They're not as important as Kip, Bluedoo and Cha-Cha, but those three aren't as important as Toby and the other kitten who you will meet in this chapter._

_PLEASE REVIEW. This is were things get serious, folks. _

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Chapter 4: Under the Not-So Starry Skies

The alleyway was dank and dark; shadowed by the rusty and damp fire-escapes embedded in the soggy walls of the tall apartment buildings lining either side of the narrow area. The ally's end was blocked off by a tall, strangely sturdy fence obscured by multiple trash cans, crates and other things that lay about in the streets.

Lastly, leaning against the wall was another fence piece, only this time it balanced from the side of the building while its other end rested on the ground, forming a small shelter of shorts underneath. A small, diagonal shelter that had been stuffed with blankets and old pillows.

It was empty, however. The shelter's occupants, the many that it held, were scattered around the alleyway. A loud racket hadn't rested during the late night, and the tiny felines running around the alleyway didn't seem the least bit tired.

The kittens, none bigger than your average knee height, were ruff-housing, playing, running and basically causing mischief around the place. Some were actually attempting simultaneous backflips for the fun of it, most notably the reddish pink one, the grey one and the blue one.

All of the kittens seemed to be having a playful banter in the alleyway, unlike most of the other cats in the city. Parties were common, but this?

Let's just say that it was a lucky fact that no-one lived in those dank buildings that someone managed to pass for apartment locations.

All but two of the tiny felines remained quiet still and oddly silent. While the others chatted and laughed, one of them held back at the corner of the ally, staring quietly and almost anxious at his comrades, glancing up now and again at the flimsy lamp they had maneuvered from the apartments above to hang over their makeshift home. He fiddled with his paws, yellow fur gleaming slightly in the dim lamp light.

Adjusting his over-sized and almost face-hiding blue hat, Toby moved his head around to look over at the other quiet and still member of the gang.

This kitten was perched up on a pile of boxes, constructed in a way that made it look almost like a throne or a pedestal, with a thinner yet taller box sitting behind to provide somewhere to sit back on. He was sitting quiet still, the only movement being his paw twirling a pencil around in his fingers.

The kitten also bore fur as yellow as the crayons you get in cheep corner stores, and in this light it was the exact same shade as Toby's. His face was around like his, with a small black nose to match. But the resemblance stopped there. This kitten bore black, clear-as-day stripes along his back, his arms and his tail bore the same darkness at its tip. His ears were also as black at the night above them, and the kitten's eyes were not a wide, innocent shade of green but rather a dark, vague colour of brown.

He was dressed in a black, round cap with a tiny tip (like Toby's) and his sleeveless jacket was the same colour. It was his only form of clothing.

The kitten was staring at the floor and seemed to be in deep, undisturbed thought despite the racket his gang was making. Anyone watching from afar wouldn't guessed by now that this was the leader.

Toby gave a tiny sigh as a sharp pain traveled through his stomach. He clutched at it with one paw, lowering his head and nibbling on his lip, He hadn't eaten in a long time, and he was worried. Very much.

He just wondered when the other yellow kitten was going to speak. His finger-fiddling grew more fretful as the time passed and the rest of the gang calmed down. It seemed the hunger was catching up on them and, as boredom crept in, so did the reminding hunger churns in their bellies.

The leader of their gang glanced at Toby, and they shared a knowing look that none of the others could understand. Toby's eyes were wide per usual, but the top of his green orbs straightened just a little, a tint, as his brow furrowed the slightest.

A simple movement of the brow, but it seemed to mean something. But then it was gone, leaving three of the kittens who had watched (Cha-Cha, Bluedoo and Kip) very bewildered.

They weren't for long, as their thoughts were cut away from Toby as their leader hopped onto his nimble feet, hands on his tiny hips.

"Alrigh' dere, you lot!" The boy called out in his loud, clear voice, "We got us a problemo."

"Uh, What kind of Probelmo?" Kip called, rasing a paw into their air along with a brow. The yellow kitten gave him a pointed glare for interrupting, but answered none the less.

"The _problemo_ is that we are, how shoulda put dis..." He raised his arms dramatically, scowling down at his team members in a serious manner, far too serious for a child his age, "Starvin' to our deaths."

There was a hushed murmur amongst the kittens. Cha-Cha, looking quiet unfazed by this revelation, beamed up at his leader.

"Hey, Kristoff. Hey."

"What is it, Cha-Cha?"

"What 'bout Tin and Jojo?" He pointed to the ally's exit, were said kittens had left earlier "Didn't ya send them to find food?"

"S'matter of fact, I did." Kristoff replied, rubbing his chin and he looked at the ally's only entrence and exit. Where had those clowns gone, anyhow?

As if fate had heard them, the two kittens mentioned came sprinting around the corner. They hopped through th small crowd of kittens, huffing and panting as they went. Kristoff rose a wry brow.

"Entering for the athlete competition?"

"No, K." Jojo, the black kitten, replied quickly. Tin who, true to his name, bore a light grey pelt like that of a tin can spoke after him:

"We was just cruisin' the place when he saw some cats carryin' lotsa food with 'um."

"Losta food? Some cats?" Kristoff shook his head, forgetting his humor and frowning instead. "A lil' more detail, my friend."

"I-I think it was..."

Before Jojo could continue, Tin stepped in and cut him off, "They had fish and ships, like, lots! They were talkin' 'bout how the shop closed down and they got free meals even though they accidentally made da shop close down!"

Kristoff actually grinned at that, seemingly impressed. Toby, hovering in the background behind him, began nibbling his lip again. Maybe food wasn't a good idea...that is, if the idea Kristoff was having was truly brewing.

"They got an easy meal, huh?" A sly look gave over his features and he folded his small arms, "That means they can get more whenever dey want, eh?"

The kittens, seeing what their leader was getting at (all save for Cha-Cha and Bluedoo, looking very oblivious) and they nodded quickly.

"Alirgh' then, boys an' girls!" Kristoff raised his arms into the air again, "We's gettin us some fish and chips tonight!"

A loud cheer followed this announcment as the kittens whopped for joy, waving their own arms in the air. All but Toby and Jojo, who watched with caution.

"But-but K!" Hearing his letter-based nick-name, Kristoff looked back at Jojo, who finally managed to get a word in.

"It was _Top Cat!"_

The applause stopped abruptly, and they kittens surrounding froze. Kristoff's features had stuck themselves in a wide-eyed frown, alarm imminent in his brow eyes. Many of the kittens blinked at each other quietly, not knowing what to say.

Toby's ears had flattened against his skull, and he nervously stepped back. Please let Kristoff drop the idea...

"Stealin' from the one of tha' best con artist in New York?" Kristoff said, more to himself than anyone else. A thoughtful and excited look began to tint his frozen look. Toby's shoulders drooped, his ears following even more so.

"Boys!" Kristoff jumped up on the spot, arms raised yet again. "This could get us up in tha big ranks if we can pull it off! Think, if we rob the best swindler in alla New York, folk could hafta respect us. We'll really get fame for this one!"

"Ooooh..."

Oh goodness, they were interested. Toby grimaced, but wasn't noticed.

"Hey, uh, dat sound lika good bet, K!" Kip called, nodding with Tin as they exchanged agreeing glances. The kitten gang began getting excited again. Kristoff had his paws on his hips again, looking over them with enthusiastic satisfaction. He waited for them to calm down before speaking again,

"Alright, ya cooks, here's what we're gonna do..."

* * *

"What did I tell ya, men? We hit the jackpot tonight!"

"Like, ah, right T.C!"

Top Cat, looked mighty pleased with his con-man self, lead his line of comrades down the deserted, darkened roads of New York, making their way to their ally home. Balanced in their arms, box upon box, were fish-and-chip suppers recently acquired from the now closed-down shop. Top Cat himself was helping with the load, though granted he carried a single box under his arm while the rest of his men had at least two balanced in their arms. None of them seemed too bothered, however.

Benny seemed to be attempting to steady on of the packages of fish on his head as he walked, wobbling from side to side as he walked.

"That was nice of them, giving us all this stuff."

"Sure was, Benny my Boy!"

Though Top Cat's tone was cheerful, Choo-Choo looked a little doubtful.

"But wasn't it our fault they, you know, closed down T.C?"

There was a pause, and Top Cat's smile faltered just a little as he walked. There was always a kill-joy in the gang at some point wasn't there? This thought in mind, the leader shook his head and shot a small frown back at him but smiled none the less.

"Wasn't our fault that driver crashed through the window." He assured the pink feline behind him firmly, "That truck came outa nowhere! Besides, it wasn't as if we _willingly_ stepped in front of it so it would turn..."

"Dibble ain't gonna be happy with us."

"When's he ever? C'mon, men, enough talk, I'm starvin'!"

After a very long day indeed, Top Cat just wanted to get home and have dinner without anymore interruptions or doubtful Chooch's. But, just as they were nearing the familiar layouts that surrounded their ally, the yellow furred cat noticed small pairs of eyes watching him from the shadows. At first he hadn't even noticed them, but now, when he'd felt that little feeling you get when you're most likely being watched, he could see them. The cat clenched his fists and his expression hardened.

He rose a curious brow. He knew New York wasn't sunshine and rainbows. In fact, it was a dark, dangerous place especially at night, where you had to always look behind you. Vile people lived in its shadows all right, real creeps and scum. He wasn't afraid, but he was wary.

Mainly because he was experienced with them, but not all of his gang was.

_"Halt, cease, desist!"_

The three sharp words stuck home like the bowling balls that sometimes rolled through their ally. The fish-and-chip holding gang behind him skidded to a halt, only just missing doing a domino impression at the last moment. They blinked at their leader in bewilderment. The change in Top Cat's demeanor was startling in the very least, the serious scowl a long shot away from his cheerful and calm posture he'd held a moment ago.

"Like, uh, what's up there, pops?"

T.C waved a dismissive paws back at Spook, quieting the dark green feline with a swift move. "Sometin's watchin' us, men."

And so there was.

Toby, a little further away from them, peeked fearfully around the corner and shivered, green eyes peering apprehensively at the tense gang in sight. He bit his lip, ears down. He'd give anything not to be in this position...why did Kristoff say he had to be one of the first to dart?

He looked up quietly, spotted the kitten in question on the roof, arm up, ready for the signal. Toby avoided his gaze and swallowed.

This was going to be bad...he was sure of that one...

* * *

Cliff hangers...please review...


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